


Hope

by Missy



Category: Greek and Roman Mythology
Genre: F/M, Invisibility, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-07
Updated: 2011-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-22 08:04:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/235918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hope is a thing born in a morning lived without him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XII. Prompt: Greek Mythology, Eros/Psyche, hope, invisible!sex. Thank you to Amber for beta!

There’s one thing they always leave out of the legends. This, Psyche decided, as she combed her long hair for the twentieth time that morning, was to keep maidens forever ignorant of the fates that awaited them.

Paradise can be terribly stifling.

And as lovely as her little house was, with its obedient servants, its cups of ambrosia, and its time of quiet reflection, she did miss the companionship of her husband. Her servants worried after her constantly, whispering rumors of the true, bestial nature of her lover.

She lived for the nights, and the light he would bring to her with every fall of the sun.

***

She heard the door slide open and stirred in her veiled bed. “Dearest?” she murmured.

“Yes,” he said, his voice soft and soothing. She felt the warmth of his hand as it reached out for her, caressing her skin. “Sweet Psyche,” he sighed. “How I miss you in the light of the morn.” His lips caressed her neck, her earlobe, the side of her jaw and drifted lower. She no longer considered his invisibility a peculiarity, and instead gave herself up to the lavish attention of his tongue and hands.

She felt the mattress dip beneath his weight. “I miss you greatly,” she confessed. “We have a lovely home, and the servants are kind, but…” his palm stroked from her cheek to the line of her jaw, down her neck to her shoulders, to the valley between her breasts. Minutes passed by before he fully cupped her breasts, what felt, to Psyche, like hours of agony.

“Would that you might play with the fruits of my sex,” she begged.

“Paitence, beauty,” he crooned in her ear. “This is no race to be won with folly…Ahh, sweetness,” he trailed off, as she stroked along the silken pathway to his cock again and again.

It was odd, that she couldn’t be afraid of this man, this beast who should be befouling her. Ahh, but if this be befouling…well, may she be befouled forevermore, then. His tongue made a criss-cross pattern on her nipple before sucking it deep, moaning at her endless stroking. Suddenly, her hands were locked over her head. “Tonight,” he declared, “you shall know the true master of your body.”

She laughed. “And you yours?” She squeezed him gently.

He moaned and suckled her neck. “I well understand who has mastered my body and soul.” His left hand strummed over her parted labia like a master of the lute, and her head fell back on a groan.

“Darling. Sweeter than ambrosia.” He covered her like a fleece, arms and legs tucked against hers, his glorious cock filling and stretching her, making her howl.

Marvelous darling. No matter who he was, marvelous he would always be.

He stretched her with his love, hurt her, but gave her such fervent ecstasy that she sobbed and sobbed his name, until he roared his pleasure and filled her with love. She drowsed and awoke to an empty bed.

Hope in the dawn of a morning lived without him.


End file.
